I thought about that this past week while visiting family in Texas. Every morning I ran, my father was on his bike next to me as we tried to catch sight of the best sunrises the Hill Country had to offer.

And when we found what we did for whichever morning, we'd stop running and cycling, and just get lost for a few moments as we stood still and silent. My twice-retired father had no reason to get up with me, but I was never alone on those roads because he wanted to be there. Cars passed us, and we crossed paths with other runners and cyclists on some of the most beautiful and serene back roads.

And as I often do – with or without my father – I wondered, "I wonder what this looks like to others."

There are illusions, and there is reality.

Our reality is harsh. My father lost his youngest daughter – my sister – in October after she took her life. And our pain and numbness and heaviness remains. The healing continues, though, as we continue to move forward and learn to live without her laughter. Without her barging through the front door and lighting up any room she walks into. Without her showering us with a love and compassion I've never seen so strong in someone other than in my sister.

Not all scars show. Not all wounds heal. Not all illness can be seen. Not all pain is obvious. Remember this before passing judgement on another. – Unknown

My father and I traveled those back roads with smiles on our faces. Sweat dripped off our faces as we cracked jokes, took photos, and showed no signs of being part of a private club we never asked to be a member of. That club people belong to when having faced something tragic that forever changes lives.

That club that changes routine, interests, that strips you of energy, and that can create a change, making you either more guarded or just more careful who you let into your life completely. Not all scars show. No. Some are deep. So deep that sometimes we don't see them ourselves for years. When your heart is broken, or when there is disappointment so deep, it can take time to surface.

Don't pass judgement on someone who reconstructs their life after facing hardship. Priorities shift, what – and even who – they care about shifts, interests shift. It's all based on the energy they have that day, or the will, the drive. The motivation. Who they want in, and even who they want out. It's a harsh process.

They don't think of what others think of them anymore. While that can be destructive, it can also be a gift to themselves.

Those deep scars can wait to surface for as long as it takes. And that's good. Because breakthrough, no matter how long it takes, is good. And it is healthy. And when the timing is right, it is healing.

Not all wounds heal. We learn that as we move forward. And this is OK. Maybe something happened that continues to sit heavy in us. Something that shook us so hard and deeply that in our core, will always be a part of who we are. It doesn't mean we can't use that to help or to serve others.

This is the part of the hurt we crave. The point when we can help others through our healing, through our wounds. When we are ready, even when we are wounded, we can move forward in ways that others can learn from. That's the good part.

There is what people see, and then there are truths.

Not all pain is obvious. It wasn't when my father and I took to those back roads in Texas. It wasn't as we smiled for photos. It wasn't as we spent time together as a family all week, in everything we did. We've learned to move forward, however. And whatever that even means.

Like anyone who has been hurt, the best way to care for yourself is to keep moving. To constructively handle the pain in your own way. So while not obvious to others – because you are smiling more again, adjusting to your "shifts" – it's there. Don't judge; rather, be observant. Listen. Talk.

Those who know this path, know. Those who are there now, know. It's a reality that many face. But it's also a reality that brings hope. You just might not be able to see that, either. But it is what pulls us all through. That's a welcomed reality.